


reflection

by elisela



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:53:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24939352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisela/pseuds/elisela
Summary: “I want to watch,” Buck says, his voice quiet against Eddie’s ear as his fingers work the buttons of Eddie’s worn flannel shirt open. Eddie doesn’t think of their height difference much except for times like these, when Buck is pressed flush up against his back, breath ghosting across Eddie’s sensitive skin. “I want you to watch.”
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 313





	reflection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hideeho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideeho/gifts).



> For Dea and all the rest of my tumblr besties ♥️

“I want to watch,” Buck says, his voice quiet against Eddie’s ear as his fingers work the buttons of Eddie’s worn flannel shirt open. Eddie doesn’t think of their height difference much except for times like these, when Buck is pressed flush up against his back, breath ghosting across Eddie’s sensitive skin. “I want you to watch.”

He raises an eyebrow but listens, watching Buck’s fingers make work of the line of buttons down his chest before pulling at each arm until his shirt is caught in between them. Buck’s hands run up his arms, squeezing around Eddie’s biceps as he dips his head and kisses the curve of his neck, just above the hem of his t-shirt, which is pulled over his head the next time Buck’s hands move back down. They fall away when Buck pulls back, letting them pool at his feet before his hands return to Eddie’s body. 

He’s never been completely comfortable with focused attention, but as he watches Buck’s face, he feels no apprehension. Buck has loved him for years; Eddie’s never fought it, but he has tried to hide from him, has shied away from Buck’s unabashed adoration, has taken a long time to get to this moment where he can watch openly as Buck loves him. 

“You’re not looking,” Buck says, chuckling low—the sound sends a shiver up his spine, drags goosebumps up along with it. 

“I am,” he says, feeling the press of Buck’s fingers into his hips under the waistband of his jeans. 

“Not me, Eddie,” Buck says, and Eddie meets his eyes in the mirror. “Look at you—you’re beautiful. I want you to watch yourself.” Buck’s hands move, pop the button on his jeans open and slide the zipper down, and Eddie’s not sure where to look, still drawn to Buck’s long fingers and the way they’re sliding down to his thighs. He focuses his gaze on his left shoulder, just above his collarbone, and tries not to let Buck’s hands or steady breathing in his ear distract him. He leans back, just enough to press more firmly against Buck, to feel the heat he radiates despite the evening chill in the air. 

It doesn’t work; when Buck’s palms drag back up his thighs, rubbing the rough denim against his skin, Eddie’s gaze drops again. Buck whispers in his ear, reminding him to watch, curling his hands around the waistband of the jeans and pulling them down slowly, easing himself down to his knees and he nudges Eddie’s legs to pull them off. 

He ignores Buck, knows he can’t see Eddie’s face with the way he trails soft, open mouthed kisses up the back of his thighs, hands running under his boxers and caressing the skin. Eddie closes his eyes briefly, sinks into the feeling of Buck’s care, of the attention he lavishes on him so often that Eddie hasn’t had a reason to doubt his affections for some time. Buck’s tongue is trailing along the curve of his thigh; when he bites gently, Eddie’s hips shift forward. The drag of fabric across his cock makes him harder and he shifts again, reaching for the waistband when Buck stills him, hands spanning wide on the outside of Eddie’s thighs. 

“Impatient,” Buck teases, standing up, hands moving to Eddie’s hips. Eddie mourns the loss of his mouth immediately. “I had something different in mind, but go on.” He looks at Buck’s reflection, confused, and Buck leans in, kisses along his neck and flicks his tongue against Eddie’s earlobe. “Touch yourself, Eddie. Let me watch you get yourself off.”

“Buck,” he says, swallowing against the desire in Buck’s voice, the way his body responds to the words. “You’re just gonna stand there fully dressed?”

Buck laughs. “Why, you want a show?” 

“Isn’t that what you’re asking for?” He holds Buck’s gaze, curling his thumbs around his boxers and pulling them down, letting them fall to his ankles and kicking them away without blinking. Buck breaks first, eyes sliding to Eddie’s hands, still hanging at his sides. He forces himself to keep them still until Buck moves, shoving a hand in his back pocket and coming up with a small foil packet that he rips open with his teeth. 

“Show for a show, then,” Buck says, reaching for him and squeezing the lube into his palm.

Eddie waits, lets Buck cup their hands together and guide them, wrapping Eddie’s around his cock. He sighs at the contact, drops his head back onto Buck’s shoulder as he starts stroking. Buck’s hands are between them, bumping into Eddie’s back as he unbuttons his shirt, faster than he had stripped Eddie. His undershirt comes next, pulling roughly between their bodies as it flies back into the bed, and then it’s just Buck’s warm skin against his own and his belt buckle digging into his lower back. 

“You look good, baby,” Buck says. He lifts a hand and tilts Eddie’s chin, forcing Eddie to look straight ahead. “Look. You’re gorgeous.”

“Buck,” he says, trying to keep his strokes even, knows that if he goes too fast now, Buck will only slow him down and drag it out longer. 

“Keep watching,” Buck says, and dips his head in. His hair brushes Eddie’s ear as he kisses his shoulders, follows the curve of the muscle down and back up while his hands run slowly over Eddie’s body. He leans back when Buck withdraws his hands, but Buck only undoes his belt buckle and slides his jeans down, kissing him the whole time, tongue dragging against Eddie’s neck, mouth open, alternating between sucking wet kisses into his skin and biting gently. 

Eddie breathes in, his body tensing, fucking into his fist faster, unable to slow down. “Buck,” he says again, trying not to close his eyes, watching his own chest rise and fall with his breath, watching the way he bites on his bottom lip without feeling it. “I want you to fuck me.”

Buck groans, sinking his teeth harder into Eddie’s skin. “You’re killing me,” he says, hand closing over Eddie’s wrist and slowing his strokes down. “Keep it slow, baby. Don’t stop.”

He forces his grip to loosen, keeps his strokes shorter as he watches Buck walk away, traces his eyes across Buck’s body; the pull of muscles across his back, the curve of his biceps. Buck‘s beautiful, soft skin over hard muscle, and Eddie speeds up without thinking about it, hips stuttering forward, his breathing turning harsher as he twists his hand.

Buck runs a hand down his back when he returns and Eddie shifts his stance, widening it, ignoring the way Buck huffs a laugh at his desperation. “Please,” he says, pushing back against Buck’s hand.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Buck says, his hand still ghosting up and down along Eddie’s back, teasing his already hypersensitive skin, getting closer to where Eddie wants it with each pass. “I’m gonna fuck you, Eddie, but I want you to watch yourself, not me. You don’t, I stop.”

“Jesus,” he groans, hand squeezing around his cock as Buck presses a finger slowly into him. They’ve done this before; Buck likes to watch and Eddie likes to let him, but he’s never been asked to keep his eyes on himself and he doesn’t know where to look. He’s drawn to Buck, wants to watch the way his lashes flutter when his hard cock bumps against Eddie’s back, wants to see how the muscles in his neck tense; wants to look anywhere but his own face. “Feels good,” he manages, and is rewarded with a kiss to the back of his neck and Buck crooking his finger, sending sparks up his back, making him gasp.

“God, Eddie,” Buck breathes. “Fuck, I—I want you to come before I fuck you. Please.” 

He’s close, his body pushing back against Buck’s fingers, wanting more. He does what Buck wants; looks himself in the mirror, watches as the flush on his cheeks grows brighter in the dim light of the room, watches how he twists his wrist around the head of his cock. Buck’s fingers are still fucking into him, his other hand firm on Eddie’s hip, his panting breaths the only thing Eddie can hear. “Buck,” he says, his body tensing; Buck whispers his name like a prayer behind him and Eddie strokes himself desperately, everything sensation in his body coalescing into the feel of Buck’s fingers inside him, and it’s all he can do to keep his eyes open and on himself when he comes. 

Buck doesn’t give him even a second to breathe; Eddie’s spilling over his fingers when Buck pushes at him, forcing him to bend with a hand to his shoulder, his other arm sliding low around Eddie’s stomach and holding him still. Eddie stretches out his free hand and braces himself against the wall, legs already shaking with the force of his orgasm and the way Buck handles him. “Eddie,” Buck groans, pushing into him, and Eddie’s knees almost buckle. “ _So_ good for me, baby, fuck, keep going, keep touching yourself.”

He’s too far gone to do anything _but_ listen, just keeps his hand curled around himself and lets the rhythm of Buck’s thrusts take over, closes his eyes and listens to a string of endless praises fall from Buck’s lips as he fucks him. It feels so good it borders on painful, and Buck keeps up a punishing pace, the arm around Eddie’s waist pulling him in, his other hand buried in Eddie’s hair. He forgets about time completely as Buck pushes into him, breathes through it, tightens his grip on his cock and starts stroking in earnest when he knows Buck is getting closer, knows how to read his ragged breathing and the way his fingers flex against Eddie’s skin. 

“Buck,” he says, his name coming out like a gasped prayer, a plea for salvation. “Fuck, please.” Buck pulls his head back, forcing Eddie up, bites down on his shoulder with a groan and Eddie’s knees almost buckle when his second orgasm hits him. He’s held up by Buck’s arms, relaxes back into him and lets him hold his weight, revels in the feeling of Buck’s lips dragging across the back of his lips, making him shiver.

“Bed,” Buck murmurs, tugging him towards it; they fall backwards when Buck’s knees knock against the edge and Eddie rolls off him, manages to spread out on his back and gropes his hand towards the nightstand. “Supposed to take care of you,” Buck says, sounding so out of it that Eddie laughs, the sound weak to his own ears, and tosses the pack of wipes over to Buck’s side of the bed when he finds them.

“All yours,” he says. “Take care of me.” Buck snorts, and Eddie feels the bed dip underneath him as Buck rolls over. He touches Eddie with the same tenderness that Eddie has come to anticipate, carefully cleaning him up before collapsing next to him and turning to bury his head in Eddie’s neck. Eddie works his arm underneath him, pulls him in close and strokes his hand through Buck’s hair. “Love you,” he whispers, turning his head and kissing Buck’s forehead.

He feels Buck smile against him, soft and slow before his lips press a kiss into Eddie’s before he whispers back, “love you, too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ [hearteyesforbuck](https://hearteyesforbuck.tumblr.com) \- open to prompts!


End file.
